Ruin
by The Mocking J
Summary: When the Azran Legacy is unleashed, it shakes the entire world. (AU) [Azran Legacy Spoilers]
1. Chapter 1

**[[**_**I don't usually write dark apocalyptic stuff, but this came to me while I was reading the final book in an amazing trilogy. (Any guesses?)**_

**Disclaimer: **_**Don't own any characters or music mentioned. **_

**Set: **_**An AU on the ending of Azran Legacy. **_

**Spoilers: **_**For AL and several other PL games. Be cautious.**_**]]**

* * *

Ruin

The guardian's heart had been pierced. Her blood flowed pure and free, opening the gates to the final legacy the Azran so thoughtfully bestowed upon the world.

As promised, enlightenment was delivered... cold, dreadful clarity of what had actually been unleashed. There was no omniscience, no scientific miracles, no monumental technology for mankind. Had the Azrans' inferior successors believed they were worthy of such treasures?

Aurora had tried to warn them of the legacy's true nature, and then what would happen if they took the chance to save humanity.

Luke— _oh, Luke— _had been the first to step forward; he was just a boy, yet he accepted this cruel fate for the sake of everyone. At least he didn't have to face it alone. Professor Layton was with his apprentice until the very end. Despite their betrayals, Emmy and Descole...or _Professor Sycamore,_ selflessly surrendered their lives too.

But there were five sides to the prism controlling the Azran sanctuary's mechanisms. Only _four _brave individuals had entered the light beams. As the Azran emissary, Aurora could not join them. She was forced to hear their agonised cries echo around the sanctuary as the breath was snatched from their lungs. And now... now Professor Layton, Luke, Emmy and Professor Sycamore lay inert on the pedestals while the golems wreaked havoc outside.

_Azran... Human..._ It made no difference to the golems. All they saw was a race governed by greed and lust for power. Although Aurora understood her kin's pain and fury, she did not agree with them. Yes, there was corruption, injustice and wickedness in the human world. But Aurora had witnessed so much _good _as well:

Professor Layton's concerned face– the first thing she had seen when she awakened from the ice; Luke teaching her about human society— treating her like someone his own age, like a friend; Emmy helping her select clothes in Kensington, snapping humorous photos on their adventure; Professor Sycamore attempting to make her laugh with his jokes; assisted by Raymond and his terrible puns.

And it wasn't just her companions on the Bostonius that had made Aurora smile. There was the traditional spreading of happiness in San Grio, the touching friendship between Old Red and Ruby in Torrido, Chief Morel's comical show in Phong Gi, the love Julius and Romilda shared in Hoogland, Umid reuniting with his mother in Mosinnia...

The golems would not see any of that. They would destroy everything.

Aurora released a wretched sob, clutching her chest. Her heart may not have been human, but it still throbbed with _hurt-despair-anger-regret-loneliness_... and _guilt. _

Overwhelming guilt. The kind that consumes a person inside and makes you want to curl over and die.

_She_ had been the cause of their suffering, hadn't she? Or...Was she simply the catalyst? The _key? No, _Aurora suddenly realized, the real cause of this calamity stood mere feet away from her.

One ruthless man now broken by the knowledge of what he had done. He was too filled with his own grief to follow the others into the light beams. He'd ignored Professor Layton's calls for help. Because of _him _their sacrifices had been in vain. (Or perhaps they knew no hope remained.)

Leon Bronev was on his knees, muttering to himself inconsolably. "For years and years I chased after my dream... our dream. And for what! _Nothing_...!" He glanced up when Aurora silently approached him with tears pooling in her eyes. "What is it, girl? Come to reprimand me? _Put me out of my misery?!_" He gave a deranged half laugh, gesturing to the corpses of Layton, Sycamore, Emmy and Luke. "My sons, Emmeline, and even that boy are _dead_... Mankind is damned! And the fault is all mine!"

He had sunk to his darkest point and dragged his entire species down with him. Yet, even after his malevolent misdeeds, Aurora couldn't bring herself to hate Bronev. (There was enough hate as it was.) She felt only... pity.

Professor Layton's wise words suddenly came to her: "The events beyond our control were already set in motion," she recited calmly. "Had you not released the golems, Professor Sycamore might have done so instead… or another archaeologist."

Ultimately, the Azran were the root of everything. They were all just puppets dancing to the tune of the tyrannical civilisation... And now Aurora's strings had been severed.

The sanctuary— former prison of the golems— began to crumble. Bronev's eyes widened as Aurora's body was engulfed by a soft golden light, dissolving into blissful obscurity.

"The Azran sanctuary has served its purpose," Aurora whispered, "...As too have I." With the Azran's message delivered, and her duty as guardian failed, she was free at last. At some point she may have wished to be reborn as a human being... Not anymore.

Only ruin, and ruin, and more ruin awaited humanity.

...

Raymond's orders had been simple. Drop Desmond, disguised as Descole, at the ice cave in Froenborg and recover the Bostonius when Layton and his cohorts arrived, which they surely would in pursuit. Why Desmond had revealed his identity to Professor Layton in The Nest of all places, and stolen the Azran keystone was beyond Raymond's comprehension.

Wouldn't it be more effective if Desmond worked _with_ Layton to keep the Azran Legacy from Targent? Of course not, this was how Desmond worked. Shut all others out, focus solely on your own plans with regard for nothing else.

However, Raymond had been extremely surprised when Desmond even dismissed _him, _after everything they'd been through. Raymond genuinely worried for his safety. Why did Desmond feel he had to take on Targent and the Azran civilisation _alone?_

But it wasn't Raymond's place to question his master's decisions.

So, he waited until Layton's group reached the ice cave before sneaking onto the Bostonius. The airship had rough a lift off, as something seemed to be stirring in Froenborg's mountain...

Raymond's eyebrows rose in horror as he steered the Bostonius towards what could only be the Azran sanctuary: a great edifice that now dominated the sky. Robot-like creatures swarmed out of the levitating ruins, shooting purple lasers. Below, Targent vehicles and ships exploded.

_Big shame_, thought Raymond, shaking his head. (This wasn't the time for humour!) By the looks of it, Targent had already activated the Azran Legacy. Unless... Desmond wouldn't be foolish enough to start this... this hail of destruction, would he?

"Master..." Raymond murmured with dismay. He couldn't shake the fear that it was too late for Desmond. And everyone else in the world.

...

The forsaken town of Froenborg was the first place to be hit. Its residents had escaped on avalanche alert when the Sanctuary started to awaken. They may have sought shelter from the melting mountain's wrath within the valley walls. But none of them anticipated how they would be trapped in an icy bowl; easy pickings for the Azran golems.

...

A terrified reporter from the World Times was the first to catch a picture of these catastrophic creatures. From there images and news spread across the planet like wildfire.

Upon beholding the ascending bronze bodied and (seemingly) white winged entities, some proclaimed _"Angels!"_ Others argued _"Aliens!"_

Most doubts were dispelled by a group claiming to be experts in archaeology. This 'Targent' agency was shrouded in shadow and savagery, but they provided much needed answers. Their airships had apparently managed to shoot down one of the flying creatures. Their scientists had examined it. The monsters were in fact of this world, Targent confirmed, but they had been constructed millennium ago, by an ancient race. They were... automatons with the ability to think, reason and kill.

_Golems._

Whatever their motives for annihilation were, the golems did not take kindly to Targent disabling and dissecting one of their brethren.

Even with Targent's military might, the Nest was the first city to fall.

...

Though it was in the middle of a dessert, Monte d'Or was a thriving city that stood out like a beacon. There was a high chance it would be targeted by the golems.

In the Ledore Mansion, Henry paced, burning a hole in the carpet as he tried to organize a plan of action.

"W-what should we do?" Angela quivered. She was perched beside Randall on the plush settee, clutching his hand like a lifeline. The two men had wanted her to escape the city with the tourists and other residents, among them being Chief Sheffield, Mrs Ascot and Dalston (who personally led the Stellar Circus animals to safety). However, Angela refused to abandon Randall and Henry. The three of them were in this together.

Henry ceased pacing. "Sheffield is busy with the evacuation... But we still have a considerable sized police force remaining. The question is if they'll be able to withstand an attack."

"The ruins..." Randall suddenly breathed. (The pair ignored his archaeological ramblings.)

"Their lives could be at great risk," Angela pointed out, gravely concerned for the officers' sake.

"If they are willing to fight, that may be a chance we'll have to take..."

Randall persisted, "What about the ruins?"

Usually Angela preserved a huge amount of patience for her husband. But with those she cared about in danger, her nerves were extremely high strung. She snapped, "This isn't the time to worry about ruins, Randall!"

"No _seriously_!" Randall shot to his feet, struck with a wild yet wonderful idea. "We can use the A_kbadain Ruins _to defend the city!"

Henry and Angela blinked at him for a minute. Then a smile lit Henry's face. "That's... brilliant, Master Randall. And it might just work."

As done so during the Masked Gentleman's "final dark miracle", the ruins beneath the city would arise, enabling them to level with the golems more. The city would become a stronghold.

The three of them would protect their home as long as they lived.

...

One part of the Nest came out of the golems' onslaught unscathed: a tall shining blue column where Targent's headquarters once loomed. Curiously, there were other surviving Azran sites across the globe. The golems seemed reluctant to raze the very Azran structures they had been enslaved to build. (Perhaps they took some degree of pride in their work?)

The inhabitants of Kodh, San Grio, Torrido and Hoogland hid within these Azran ruins. The walled city of Mosinnia, with its architecture dating back to Azran civilisation, went untouched altogether.

Dr Schrader would live to recount how he avoided the golems while staying on the Island of Ambrosia.

At the time Misthallery was demolished, the towns' children had been playing in the Golden Garden. (Thankfully even Crow had taken the day off.) They emerged unharmed— Tony Barde claimed it was due to the protection of Loosha's spirit— but a devastating sight awaited them.

...

Dean Delmona had assured his granddaughter he was just paying a quick visit to Gressenheller before they escaped. He needed to procure some vital documents from his office and lock up the university...

"Hi, Dean Delmona!"

The Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. Panting, he readjusted the toupee on his head and turned to face the young woman who had slipped into the room. "M-Miss Stone... What on Earth are you doing here?" He hadn't thought anyone would still be on campus, let alone a student!

Rosetta shrugged. "I'll be leaving in my parents' private jet shortly. I just wanted to check... Have you heard anything from Professor Layton?" Never had a student been so obsessed with her teacher's whereabouts.

He shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid I haven't heard anything from him since he informed me he was going on a worldwide archaeology trip. It's quite likely that he's trapped in another country right now." (Delmona hoped Layton was well... Who else would be able to solve his granddaughter's puzzles?)

"Oh, right," Rosetta pouted in disappointment. "If you do get in contact with the professor, could you tell him that Rosetta misses him and she hopes he's okay?"

"Very well. Now I really think you should go, Miss Stone."

Thanking the Dean, Rosetta walked outside, devoid of her usual bravado.

Professor L was the smartest, bravest, most resourceful man in the world, Rosetta assured herself. He was probably cooking up a way to beat the golems at that very moment. Of course she didn't have to worry about him!

Then...Why did she have this sick, twisted sensation in her stomach? Normally her pulse would race whenever Professor Layton crossed her thoughts... But now she just felt her heart shatter into a million iddy-biddy pieces.

...

All Don Paolo been doing was testing his flying contraption— which he intended to crush Hershel Layton with— in an inconspicuous field in the English countryside. As his luck would have it, he encountered a golem while he was flying.

The most common reaction would have been fear. But Don Paolo, being Don Paolo, felt only fascination. He squinted out the window. What type of technology was used to make these things? Did they have brains? Just how did they fly? (Those puny wings on their heads didn't seem to be much help...) The golems resembled robots; maybe he could take this one apart to discover how it ticked. Sure, those Targent nut heads had already tried that, but Don Paolo's intellect in mechanics was unmatched. Anyway, he could always reprogram the golems to do his bidding...

But before the scientist could attempt to capture the golem, it rolled in midair, opening its arms.

"Wait— NO! NO! NO!" Don Paolo shouted as the blasted thing shot at him and his flying machine was trapped in a purple beam. He punched an emergency red button and his seat was ejected just as his beautiful machine exploded.

As he parachuted to the ground, Don Paolo gaped at the sheer number of golems... an entire _swarm_, headed in the direction of London. "Well, shit!" Don Paolo muttered.

They would probably destroy Layton before him.

...

When the golems soared over St Mystere, they sensed not humans but automatons rather similar to themselves, and opted to leave the curious village as it was. Fortunately, they did not detect the human girl holed up in her tower. Unfortunately, she was going to be waiting up there for a long time.

...

"HEEEEELP!"

"C'MON, LET US OUT!"

"IT'S THE FUCKIN' _APOCALYPSE!_"

Frantic shouts rang out through London's prisons. Inmates rattled on their cell bars. Police officers ran up and down, hopelessly trying to quell the dissent.

"Quiet, all of you!" Inspector Clamp Grosky barked, pounding furiously on his chest. "I'm sure this isn't a permanent situation!"

According to the Prime Minister's orders, all prisoners had to be accounted for and kept under lock-down. (Apparently a golem invasion was no excuse for criminals.) Meanwhile, Bill Hawks himself was currently overseeing the golem outbreak from the security of a top secret bunker.

Though Grosky would much rather be evacuating citizens from London, he'd been called here by Constable Colby to help establish some order amongst the convicts. If Inspector Chelmey was present, he would've had these criminals cowering in fear. Unfortunately he was still stranded abroad with Amelie, their honeymoon having been interrupted. Grosky could only hope that Chelmey would take care of his little sister, and that his own lovely yet estranged wife was safe...

Grosky's troubled reverie was disturbed by the sound of a cell door being opened. Several grateful inmates poured out, making a break for the prison exit. Grosky would've raced after them, but he was too shocked by the sight of a stout young policeman, holding the jail keys and liberating convicts from their cells.

"Constable Barton, what do you think you're doing?" Grosky demanded as Levin Jakes was released. (He grinned triumphantly at Grosky, jogging away.)

Barton, Chelmey's clumsy assistant left in Grosky's care, turned to him with a determined look. "This... this is the right thing to do!" he squeaked. "I know it goes against the Prime Minister's wishes, and they've committed crimes... But they deserve to escape with their lives, like everyone else! Crooks are _people_ too, not just statistics on paper!"

Grosky was astounded by how much Barton sounded like his late father. (Gilbert would've agreed whole-heartedly with his son at that moment. Even Chelmey might have.) The inspector nodded to Barton. "You're right, justice must prevail, even in these troubled times. Let's make haste!"

Barton beamed and continued freeing people. Grosky helped him, yelling as they ran past the cells:

"Quickly, everyone! Out! Out! Out!"

Narcisse and Frankie, two conmen Grosky had caught in Monte d'Or, stared in disbelief as the inspector flung their cell door open. "This some kind of joke...?" Frankie probed suspiciously.

"No," Grosky growled. "Now go, before I change my mind."

As Narcisse and Frankie slipped out (intent on scamming some poor evacuees), Barton reached the final cell. "Mr Whistler, we need to leave!" he informed the grey haired man sitting quietly at prison's piano.

However, Oswald Whistler merely shook his head. "Thank you, but don't worry about me." Barton hesitated in the doorway for a minute until he saluted and followed Grosky outside. There was nothing more he could do for the composer.

Whistler took a deep breath, turning to the piano. For his daughter who so loved music, he began to play a slow, mournful tune: _'Departure from Life'. _

Soon he would be with Melina again.

* * *

**[[**_**I'm sorry for destroying Professor Layton's puzzle loving world T_T**_

_**I may add to this to show how other PL characters cope with the 'golem invasion'.**_

***Edit:** _**Thanks to Ophelia for pointing out how Bronev doesn't include Luke in the body count.**_**]]**


	2. Chapter 2

**[[**_**I swear I don't take any enjoyment screwing up the PL characters' lives... I've just never written this kind of genre before, so it's a new learning experience for me. And just a note, these events don't necessarily take place in chronological order. **_

**Disclaimer: **_**I don't own any included dialogue from AL or PL characters or music or art mentioned. Just my OC making a shameless appearance. *Trollface***_**]]**

* * *

"_I dedicated my life to archaeology... to finding the most precious treasure that mankind could hope for... And yet... And yet..."_

"_Bronev! Listen to me! Our mission here...was not... pointless!"_

...

Inspector Chelmey was irritated. Scratch that, he was _infuriated_. Of all the times for the world to end, it had to be during his honeymoon, didn't it? He couldn't take a few ruddy weeks off without something going awry. Soon he would be back at hard work helping Scotland Yard organise London for the oncoming assault. (Grosky and Barton had probably done a shoddy job in his absence...)

The inspector and his wife were currently on a cruise ship speeding back to Britain. There just wasn't enough space on the tiny island of San Grio to shelter any extra tourists. However, a generous restaurant owner had provided the passengers with nourishments for the journey, wishing them "true happiness". _Easy for him to say, _Chelmey grumbled.

"Don't frown like that, dear. I think you're frightening the other passengers..."

Chelmey's brooding was interrupted by Amelie resting a hand on his arm. He looked around, realising that his livid expression was indeed making some children cry. "Sorry," he muttered. The corners of his lips twitched upwards, which only scared the kids even more.

"There's a smile," Amelie beamed; a ray of sunshine to compliment his storm cloud. "Just keep your chin up. We'll be home soon and I'll bake you a delicious cake. How does that sound?"

"_Chocolate fudge cake?" _Chelmey asked hopefully.

Before she could reply, the ship gave a great lurch that swept most of the shrieking passengers off their feet. Amelie held on to her husband and stuttered, "W-what's happening?"

Dragging Amelia behind him, Chelmey raced to the deck railing to see what had caused the disruption. "Bloody hell..." He breathed.

A body of hostile golems had surrounded the ship, and more were visible on the bleeding red horizon.

Cake would have to wait.

Everything broke out into chaos as people scrambled to the lifeboats.

"Inspector Chelmey of Scotland Yard, coming through!" Chelmey bellowed, brandishing his police badge as he fought his way to the front of the crowd. (He'd brought it unbeknownst to Amelie.) The nearest lifeboat was nearly full, but surely there was enough room for _one more person... _

"W-wait, dear!" Amelie protested as Chelmey pushed her into the lifeboat.

But he had already turned to address the mob: "ONE AT A TIME! _ONE AT A TIME, I SAY—!" _

Another purple laser made impact, rocking the ship and sending the lifeboat plummeting into the ocean.

"STOP! MY HUSBAND'S STILL UP THERE!"

Amelie screamed his name as the golems stormed the ship.

...

Katia and her father hadn't seen eye to eye since Sophia's death. But the final straw for Mr Anderson was when Katia stated she was going to find her lost grandfather while the rest of them deserted Dropstone.

"Don't be ridiculous, Katia— you're leaving with the rest of us!"

"I'm sorry, Father. Try to understand; I must deliver a message for Grandmother..."

"Sophia wouldn't want you to throw your life away like this. Those... those monsters will _kill _you!"

"They could easily kill my grandfather, too. Then I'll never get to meet him, and he'll never know how Sophia truly felt about him. Or that she's... passed on."

"K-Katia dear, please reconsider—!"

"This is good-bye, Father, but just for now. I will see you again soon. I love you!"

Katia made the wisest decision in travelling to Folsense along with Mr Beluga and his nephew, Sammy Thunder. The golems paid no mind to the seemingly abandoned phantom town. They did derail the renowned Molentary Express, on the other hand...

...

Initially, Brenda had been a bit worried placing her young son's life in Hershel Layton's hands. Not that the professor couldn't be trusted— he was an old friend who had saved Misthallery along with the Triton family. Furthermore, Luke greatly admired the professor and with his help he'd matured faster than Brenda could have ever imagined. But Luke would always be her little boy, no doubt about it.

Luke had promised he'd phone home whenever he had the chance on his worldwide trip with Professor Layton; he was always eager to tell his parents about his adventures...

Days went by without any word from Luke. Clark assured Brenda that Luke and Hershel probably wouldn't have any signal at some locations. But then days turned into weeks, and weeks stretched into a whole month. Still no call from Luke.

Clark caved in and asked Dean Delmona and Inspector Grosky if they had heard anything from Professor Layton. They had not.

Brenda spent every waking moment by the phone, waiting, waiting, waiting...

He would call soon— he'd promised. Her bright-eyed boy was reckless, but Hershel would never let anything happen to him... would he? Even if they encountered danger– Luke was rather dismissive whenever he described these parts of their exploits– they always came out unscathed, didn't they?

Things had just been starting to improve for the Triton family. Brenda loved her work on plate tectonics, Clark was content with his job at the museum, and Luke had gradually been reconnecting with his father. After those miserable memories of Misthallery, all three of them were happy.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

What was Luke doing? Where on earth was he? Was he _safe_? _(Please, PLEASE let him be safe...!)_

They organised a Missing Person notice to be placed in the World Times. At best Luke was just lost and someone somewhere would recognise him. If not...No, Brenda couldn't bear to think like that. However, soon the Times became flooded with reports of the missing and the dead. Luke's name was just one in a sea of millions.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

The golems were about to descend on London? Who _cared! _Brenda was too distraught over her son's whereabouts. God, if she'd known that brief encounter at Kensington and the museum was the last time she'd ever see her baby...

Eventually, Clark packed their bags. He gathered Luke's belongings along with Toppy, the boy's mouse companion. Then came the hardest part.

"N-no... No, Clark!" Brenda howled as he attempted to pry her away from the phone. "H-he said he'd call us, he _promised...!" _

"I know, love. I know," Clark choked out, hugging her firmly in his arms. "I'd wait forever to see him walk through that door... But we'd be no good to him dead, would we? Even though we need to leave here, we will never stop searching for him."

They would never stop waiting.

...

Archie Pendrake would have enjoyed being free of Professor Layton's archaeology classes. That is, if it weren't for the apocalypse.

He'd prepared a rucksack of essential items— regretfully lacking in his art supplies, but there were bigger issues to worry about. The student traipsed his flat, phone in hand as he tried to establish any connection across the Atlantic Ocean. (It would only be a matter of time before global cell towers overloaded and crashed.)

In the background the television blared; a blonde man claiming to be Targent's leader who had survived the attack on the Nest was warning everyone that the golems were more dangerous than they'd initially perceived. This archaeological group were being treated like the heroes of the world, when their information hadn't really helped at all.

Before Archie could roll his eyes, by a miracle, someone finally picked up on the other end of the line:

"Hello?"

"Father," Archie gasped. "Are you alright?"

"Archibald!" (Archie was too relieved by the sound of his voice to correct him.) "Honestly, I've been better. Yourself?"

"Fine, just about to leave London... Where are you?" _You'd better not be crawling around at a dig site in the middle of nowhere, _Archie thought. Then again, it might have been safer away from urban areas...

"I'm currently still in Mexico," Richard Pendrake replied. "We were investigating the Chichen Itza Mayan ruins, you see—"

Archie's usual pretence of pandering to his father's work was forgotten right now. "That's all very well and good, but in case you weren't aware, we're being _invaded by_ _golems." _

"Of course I know that!" His father huffed indignantly. "They were supposedly created by an ancient civilisation from millions of years ago. Incredible..."

"And _dangerous_," Archie added scathingly. "Don't get yourself killed trying to studyone or something. Make sure you find somewhere _safe _to stay."

"You too, son. And don't worry; I'll be back before you know it..." There was a pregnant pause as Richard spoke to someone on his side. "W-what's that—?" He was abruptly cut off by alarmed shouts. Explosions. Static. The line had gone dead.

"F-father...?" The phone fell from Archie quaking fingers with a clatter. On the T.V., news was just in that the golems had reached Mexico. Sickening footage from the scene was being displayed.

For Archie it was a jarring reminder of an oil painting he'd once seen titled 'The End of the World', or more commonly known as 'The Great Day of His Wrath'. While it didn't forecast golems, the gloomy picture portrayed the material world being devoured by fire, dust and darkness, capturing the savage beauty of the cataclysm.

Archie feared that painting had become a reality.

...

Detective Carmine Accidenti had a knack for getting himself into difficult situations. Only _he_ would dare to take on a new case during the apocalypse. He'd agreed to help find a woman's missing puppy, which left him with very little time to escape from London.

Carmine drove like a maniac through the roads leading out of the city, mostly empty now. (Every sane person had evacuated hours ago.)

Just when he thought he'd made it far enough to avoid the golems, he was blocked by three figures in the middle of the road. His black car screeched to a halt, and Carmine was able to discern the human-shapes in the headlights. (Thank God they weren't golems.)

There was a teenage girl with brown bouffant hair; a purple cat in her arms. Next to her were two men: one with a dark moustache wearing a scarf, the other dressed like an explorer.

Somehow this curious combination of travellers cajoled Carmine into giving them a ride. Of course Carmine was willing to help them. Like him, they needed to escape from the golems, and as his former professor would have said, 'A gentleman must always assist others.' But that didn't make the journey any less awkward.

"So, er, where am I taking you all again?" Carmine inquired as they directed him along a bumpy country lane.

The young lady sitting in the backseat, whose name was Puzzlette, chirped, "We're going to stay with my granny in this cute little village called St Mystere."

"Keh heh heh!" The moustachioed fellow beside her, Stachen, chuckled... or coughed. (Carmine couldn't tell.)

"_Ja_, it shouldn't be too far away now," Pavel the explorer, who had an accent more confusing than Carmine's, said. "Just over this hill... I think."

Carmine sighed, "You just contradicted yourself— Augh!"

Suddenly, there was a purple flash and the garble of robotic chatter. The golems had caught up to them.

"_Fais gaffe!_" Pavel yelped a warning in French.

Spinning the steering wheel wildly, Carmine dodged any incoming lasers. The vehicle skidded off- road and into a meadow, but Carmine kept his foot on the gas. The car continued accelerating until it entered a copse of trees. Carmine instantly killed the ignition and the headlights, concealing them in darkness.

Puzzlette was hyperventilating. Stachen clamped a hand over her mouth. Carmine held his breath. _Had they managed to evade the golems...?_

The silence was sliced open when something landed on the hood of the car.

Pavel cussed in some other language. There was a muffled whimper from Puzzlette. Keats the cat hissed and dug his claws into the girl's lap. The four humans stared at the golem in wide-eyed terror. The golem stared right back, scanning them with its beady white eyes.

_What is it waiting for? _Carmine thought, bracing himself for the end.

Still, the clay crafted doll refrained from firing. Maybe it didn't regard them as a threat? Or was it actually capable of feeling... _pity?_ For whatever reason, they were immensely relieved when the golem leapt off the car and took to the sky once more.

After a minute, Puzzlette let out a shuddery laugh, hugging Keats tightly to her chest. "W-we're okay... we're all okay!"

"Why did it not attack us?" Pavel mused.

"I... I don't know," Carmine murmured, shaking his head in amazement.

"No point in questioning it," Stachen grunted. "Let's move, we have a village to get to!"

...

As a famous opera singer, Janice Quatlane could be considered among London's privileged upper class. However, when offered the chance to enter a reserved bunker, she'd turned it down. Her life was no more important than that of a poorer civilian. She would be evacuated from London, just like the majority of people. Perhaps she put herself at greater risk in doing so, but this was her own life and she would live it how she wished.

So, Janice joined the masses being driven out of the city on red buses— once an iconic London transportation, now essential for escape. The vehicles were packed; there was pushing and shoving, wailing children, arguments, warnings from the stressed driver.

Janice squashed up to the window as an elderly woman elbowed her in the stomach. The diva sighed irritably, closing her eyes. Couldn't they just have one moment of peace?

A respectful hush did fall over the bus when they heard the latest news on a portable radio someone had brought. A cruise ship bound for Britain had been blasted by the golems. Hundreds of the ship's passengers were killed, though a few were thought to have survived in lifeboats. Following the depressing report, a song was played in honour of the deceased. It was a slow, tragic tune that Janice recognised. _Surely Someday. _

With tears in her eyes, Janice touched the purple pendant around her neck. Then she began to sing.

There were groans and complaints from some of the bus riders, but many of them accompanied her. For the young and old, for the rich and the poor, for the lost and the lonely; they sang together.

Several hours later, their singing was replaced by screaming.

As their bus was enveloped in a purple and lifted into the air, Janice squeezed the hand of the lady next to her. She wondered what would happen when she died.

Was there such thing as an afterlife? Would she be reborn, like Melina? (Would she see Melina again?)

Or maybe there was just... nothing.

...

Clive Dove had heard the reports of death and destruction. According to Spring and Cogg, London had already been evacuated and the golems would arrive in a matter of hours. As Clive had created fake "future" London in an underground cavern beneath the real city, it was unlikely they would be caught by the golems.

The problem was that they ruined the perfect plan he'd spent years preparing.

Bill Hawks (the coward) had been moved to a secret bunker someplace. Hershel Layton, along with his apprentice, Luke Triton, was nowhere to be found. From what Clive had heard, the professor had never returned from a worldwide tour he recently undertook.

How ironic— the primary person Future London was built to fool was not present. And more concerning, he wasn't here to save London (or Clive).

This was a major setback for Clive. But perhaps he could use the golems to his advantage...

"The only thing these golems understand is _force_," Clive told Dimitri as he led him into the depths of Future London's Research Facility, where Lockjaw and Fisheye were waiting.

Dimitri appraised the room's extensive array of weaponry, definitely not required for building a time machine. "What is all this? I wasn't informed of these developments..."

Clive smirked. "You were too busy with your machine to notice the little project I had some of the scientists working on."

"You went _behind my back_?" Dimitri uttered.

Clive gestured for Lockjaw and Fisheye to restrain the scientist while he continued. "I'd initially planned on destroying the real London myself... But what's the point if the golems are going to do that anyway?"

"What are you saying, Clive?"

"When _I _become the city's _saviour_, everyone will turn to _me_ for authority, rather than Bill Hawks and his corrupt government," Clive put his hand over his heart. "I'll rebuild a better London in my own image."

"We were _partners!" _Dimitri snarled. "I thought that you also wanted the time machine completed, to save your parents—"

"Did you really expect me to trust a single-minded scientist, after your kind _killed_ my parents?" Clive sneered. "I can't dispose of you yet, however. We know that military might alone can't stop the golems. But if you can find some way to weaken them, my mobile fortress will stand a greater chance against them." He extended his hand to Dimitri. "You can still redeem yourself... Help me save London."

...

When the Mobile Fortress finally emerged from the ground, the golems were drawn to it like moths to a flame. Unlike Targent, Clive's machine was equipped with a method to overcome the golems: Molecular instability. Dimitri had adapted the process to their benefit, creating a weapon that would disable the creatures' bodies for a minute. In that minute the Fortress could shoot them down.

By the time the battle was through, there was nothing left of London to save.

Months later, Claire Foley appeared in the present and witnessed the ruined world. She prayed molecular instability would soon take full effect on her body. Because she couldn't bear to live another moment in this lost future.

...

"_Others can learn from this. They don't have to repeat the mistakes of the past. Humanity can move on, look to the future! Mankind... doesn't have to end here!"_

"_No... It doesn't."_

* * *

**[[**_**Well, there we go. I don't know what's up with the ending. That's the last time I write anything depressing. Now excuse me while I go retrieve my feels.**_

_**P.S.- Carmine Accidenti is from PLvsAA.**_**]]**


End file.
